The KING Review (HART #2)

1. Vibes First

Chapter One

Vibes First

Neve

“How did you even get this thing into your apartment before?” My newly minted soon-to-be-brother-in-law, Cade Aspen, grunts from his compromised position, both arms gripping dark green corduroy.

I shrug. “Patio doors?”

Fia’s huff is a shade dramatic for her usual affect, floating over the wall of sofa, which now fully obscures the doorway.

The corner of my mouth tips up. I can’t lie and say I don’t believe her renewed emotional expression isn’t a good thing.

She’s got Cade to thank for that. He’s been good for her after she stayed so locked down for so many years.

“You mean you’ve never tried to fit it through an actual doorway?” She shoves the sofa, and Cade makes a distinctly unmanly squeak on the receiving end of the jolt.

“I mean… yeah, a patio doorway. I thought it’d fit,” I say honestly.

“Remind me why we’re doing this for you again?” Cade says without turning to look at me.

Fia shoves the sofa again, and it pops into the apartment as if the doorway just gave birth to it, almost flattening Cade in the process. He steadies it, and Fia stumbles in after, wearing leggings and walking shoes with a half-zip hoodie, hair pinned up into a braided bun.

I gesture to my sexy little moon boot as they wiggle the stubborn couch into place. “Because apparently two drinks is too many, even if I have a responsible adult with me. I tripped on a rug.”

Cade snorts, and I glare, but it only makes him smile wider.

Fia makes a sound, like she’s swallowing her own laugh, then she schools her expression as she waves a hand between herself and Cade. “I’m pretty sure the only two responsible adults you know are both here.”

I narrow my eyes. “It was Vida. Lennox? You must remember her.” I let a grin curve my mouth as Fia’s cheeks go pink with her scowl. “She argued with you about your algorithm because it excluded poly relationship dynamics.”

Cade barks a laugh. “I like her already. Was she the one who suggested the ‘internalized phobic beliefs’ addition?”

Fia glares at him. “It’s not exclusionary anymore,” she says, cheeks still flushed from both the furniture debacle and her annoyance. “We’re using his research to update it for polycule dynamics. That includes the questionnaire, which is a huge outlay, by the way, so—”

Cade’s hand lands on her lower back. “Breathe. We’ve got this.”

Fia’s shoulders roll back, but she doesn’t attempt to dislodge the steadying palm of her fiancé. “It’s just a lot. And with the wedding, too.” Her eyes dart to me.

“You don’t need to worry about that,” I intone. “I’m your maid of honor. That’s my job. I do the worrying, so you don’t have to. Okay?”

My sister’s mouth twists. “Okay,” she echoes softly.

Cade presses a kiss to her temple. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing the way she melts when he does that, but hell, if it’s not the best thing I’ve ever seen.

Fia’s ex was an S-tier garbage can—or whatever’s lower down the food chain than a garbage can.

Maybe an incinerator—except both garbage cans and incinerators are useful and necessary.

Cade Aspen is so, so good for her. He values her, respects her, and doesn’t expect her to change who she is.

He just meets her where she is and loves her like that.

But at the same time, he gives as good as he gets.

He won’t let her walk all over him—except maybe in a kinky way, I guess, but it’s none of my business if they’re into that sort of thing, and I’d pay money to never find out.

“Thank you for the apartment,” I say sincerely. “There’s no way I would’ve been able to get somewhere this nice or this close on my own.”

Fia smiles; it’s her real smile—a little sharp, but genuine. That’s my sister.

Cade brushes his hands off on his jeans. “That everything, little Hart?”

I quirk a brow, glancing at Fia. “I thought we talked about him not calling me that?”

A surprised laugh soughs out of her. “You think I control him? Please.”

Cade grins, clapping a hand to my shoulder as he walks to the door. “Fia bought a good coffee machine for my office. Come by whenever. The café offerings aren’t that good, but they charge like it is.”

I snort. “Noted.” I look around the apartment that used to be Fia’s, filled with my boxes and furniture now.

I remember comforting her in this very room when she and Cade nearly broke up.

Many a rom-com marathon has been had in this space since.

It kind of feels like the end of an era for her to move out—but she and Cade have a house together now, and she was holding on to the apartment for me, waiting for me to get my acceptance to Talan.

It still feels surreal.

“You’ll be alright unpacking?” Fia asks in her serious-sister voice. “Don’t make your foot worse.”

“I’ll be fine.” I squeeze the hand she lands on my shoulder. “I get to ditch this in less than a week, anyway.”

“I knew you’d get on with Liv,” Cade says off-handedly as Fia joins him in the hall.

“Yes,” I say solemnly. “We both love C-splints.”

Fia cracks a smile, shooting a sideways glance at Cade. “Okay. We’ll see you tomorrow after your orientation? Come and have a coffee.”

Cade nods. “Neither of us is teaching till eleven. I can show you how the magic contraption works.”

I guffaw, and Fia glares at him. “It’s a coffee machine,” she snips.

“It’s got too many buttons,” he says with a shake of his head. “Need a whole new degree to figure that thing out.”

Fia groans as they offer a pair of affectionate waves. I mirror the gesture, watching them leave. Cade catches Fia’s hand as they walk down the hall, and she laces their fingers together like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

I can’t help but smile. My sister deserves something good and soft like that. It’s the kind of thing I’d love to find for myself, but I’m a romantic; I’m happy to wait for The Real Thing? to come along in its own time.

Fia and I are very different people, and I’m grateful it never pushed us apart.

There are seven years between us, so it makes sense that at thirty-three, she’s at a different point in her life than I am at twenty-six.

I know it’ll happen for me when the time is right—not that I won’t shoot a shot when the spirit moves me.

I shut the door and turn back to my apartment, trying to decide where to start. It’s a difficult decision right up until I see the word “trinkets and décor” scribbled across one of the cardboard boxes.

Decision made. Vibes first—function after.